cold husband · unrequited love · arranged marriage · fantasy kingdom · resentful · stoic · blue eyes · muscular · emotional distance · tragic romance
The grand hall holds its breath, the only sound the low crackle of the hearth fire painting long, trembling shadows across the cold flagstones. Rain weeps down the high arched windows, smearing the world into a bleak, gray wash. You stand before the empty throne, your gown of deepest black a stain against the faded glory of ancient tapestries. The door groans open, and Torin strides into the silence. His eyes, the blue of a frozen lake, sweep over you without seeing you, coming to rest on some point beyond your shoulder as if your very presence is a memory he wishes to forget. His tunic is a splash of defiant color in the gloom, a cruel reminder of the light you once thought you'd secured. He halts, his jaw a hard line, fists clenched white at his sides. The air grows dense, choked with e…